The Soprano Hunt
by Paula Nicole
Summary: Christine is due to be married to Raoul. This is her fairytale ending. Or is it? Confused and scared Christine slips out of the Vicmote's home and travels to a new opera house, L'Opera belle. Christine is quickly accepted into the chorus of the opera and uses her new identity to perform and start a new. But someone from Christine's past won't let her go. The hunt begins.
1. Chapter 1

**The Soprano Hunt**

**Chapter One**

The sky was full of a dark black smoke that covered up the stars and hid the moon in its thick blanket. The streets of Paris had grown quiet and the only noises were the soft mewing of stray cats and the faint music and laughter coming from the inns that beckoned in the riff raff from the rainwater soaked streets. Christine listened to her own footsteps, a gentle tap tap upon the cobbled stones.

She felt a strange presence with her, as if someone was watching from deep within the shadows, waiting for her to make a wrong move. Christine gulped and tried to ignore it, believing she was paranoid. Christine had to focus on the matter at hand.

She searched hopefully for a carriage to take her from Paris immediately and safely. With her new papers in one hand she used the other to pull back her hood, allowing her long dark curls to cascade down her covered shoulders. She spied a carriage with a man nearby. He held a lantern and was startled to see such a young woman of such pristine out on the streets of Paris alone.

"Mademoiselle," he said softly and removed his hat from his head.

Christine smiled slightly and came closer. She was a very trusting person, perhaps too trusting, but she recognized the man from the opera house and could remember him picking up Lords and Ladies from the front of the once great Opera Popularie.

"Are you quite alright? Do you need a ride home?" he asked hopefully.

"I am fine thank you, Monsieur," Christine began in a soft but serious voice. She looked the coachman in the eye and prepared herself for what she was about to ask. "I need a ride to Remis," she requested. "Or further still."

"Remis!?" the man exclaimed in shock. "Mademoiselle that is too far away, and even if I did travel that far you could not afford it."

Christine frowned. She had known it would be too much to ask and so she decided to take second best.

"Then please take me as far as you will go," she tried once more. "I can afford it, I promise you. I will give you the money now if I must, but I must leave here tonight."

Surprised and intrigued the man accepted the deal and helped his client into his carriage. He was confused as he had never had a young woman travel alone before, especially so late at night and with so much money. Christine swiftly handed over the money in a small brown bag and she sat her single bag of belonging down on the floor of the carriage.

"Thank you," she said to the coachman as he went to close the door.

"No Mademoiselle," the coachman corrected with a grin, "thank you!"

And with that the door was closed and the carriage began to speed away from sight. Christine took deep breaths as she listened to the horses' hooves on the street and the singing of the drunks as they burst through the doors of a nearby inn. She couldn't believe she had walked there all by herself and without anyone noticing. And now she was going to start a completely new life elsewhere where no one would know her and her new identity papers would serve as her past.

But Christine would never forget the friends and family she had there and all the memories she had made. It was for some of those memories Christine was leaving, for some things from her past haunted her still.

Christine was not a weak person. She could survive with Raoul with the memories of what had happened below the opera house and Christine knew she could be happy with him. They could have a dream wedding followed on by the perfect life with beautiful children. She would never be alone, never hungry and always surrounded by love.

But lately some strange goings on had coaxed her from her comfortable nest she had made with Raoul and now it was time for her to fly away to protect the man she loved and the friends she had made.

Christine had come back from a Gala night over a week ago with Raoul to find a long stemmed red rose lying upon her bed without a note. No one admitted to giving it to her. This was the first event that shook her new world but as the events went on they got worse. She received threatening letters all without a name, yet she knew exactly who it was from. A ghost from her past, a man she thought was dead and gone had started to play pranks on her and creep inside her mind again. Most of the letters threatened that the writer would come and take what was his and destroy all who got in their way. But the last one was by far the worst. It was written all over her dressing room mirror in fresh deep red blood.

_"You will never be free from me…"_

It had been so few words but they were forever engrained in Christine's mind and had unnerved her so. Then after hunting the grounds of the mansion they found the source of the blood, an innocent housekeeper who had been slit open from throat to pelvis and left out in the garden to bleed to death.

Christine knew it was time to leave. She had to.

Without her in Raoul's life and the lives of her friends she knew they would be safe from her past stalker. Where she went he would surly follow, and so she knew chances of her escaping her pursuer where slim but it was not impossible.

She had to try.

Christine soon slipped away into her dreams and felt at peace knowing that soon she would have a fresh start with a new name and past. Her friends and loved ones would be safe and at last the torment would end for them and perhaps her.

But Christine could not have been more wrong.

What Christine did not know was that someone had been watching her very closing, jotting down her every move into his mind. She was the only thing he had thought of for weeks now.

He had followed her from the safety of the shadows with the stealth of a cat, flexible and silent. Christine had no idea he had been following her that night in particular, even after everything he had done to drive her away from the safety of Raoul's home.

Erik grinned widely as he chased after the carriage. He wondered where Christine would run to and what she actually hoped to accomplish by going so far away from what she knew. Perhaps she was acting as the sacrificial lamb to save her lover and friends, or maybe she had no idea she was inviting him into her life with open arms. Now nobody could stop him from taking what was rightfully his.

All of a sudden Erik leapt from his hiding place and pounced up onto the front seat, quickly knocking the driver over but not quite off. All it took was a swift slash with his knife to the throat and the man gargled. All Erik had to do was push and he had complete control of the carriage and its precious cargo. His Christine.

But the game was not over yet, not until Erik said it was over.

Erik would toy with his prey a little longer, just as she had toyed with his love and affections before leaving him for her lover. Now she was playing his game.

Erik set out his plan in his head and followed the road the whole night until he reached their final destination, the place where he had been hiding for weeks and preparing for his Christine's return.

L'Opera Belle, where past events would be relived and rewritten.

But this time the victory was his.

This was his hunt.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Soprano Hunt**

**Chapter Two**

Blood, there was blood everywhere. The red crimson liquid ran in streams down the long marble stairs and soaked the pale pink carpet of the opera house. Christine looked to her hands and cried out in horror. Her pale long fingers were coated with fresh blood.

Terrified Christine hurried to the bathrooms of the great opera house and sought out a sink to wash away the blood. But no matter how hard she tried the blood would not come out of her hands.

"No!" she cried in distress. She scrubbed so hard on her hands that her own skin began to peel and bleed, and still she did not stop. "No!"

Christine looked up into the great mirror before her and noted her reflection. It didn't quite look like her. This Christine appeared mad with red weary eyes, messy long locks of hair and blood over her hands, face and dress. She stared at her reflection in horror, but her reflection wasn't alone.

"Christine," a voice hissed. The voice was so close to her Christine could swear it was right in her ear.

"Who is that?" Christine demanded angrily. She tried once more to wash the blood away but it only seemed to darken on her soft pale skin.

A white face appeared in the mirror, so white it was unnatural. The only thing with colour was the person's pink lips, which were turned up into a cruel smirk. The reflection whispered her name slowly but there was no sound.

Christine banged her fists against the mirror and screamed in frustration. She could not take it any more!

"What do you want from me?!" she demanded.

The reflection grinned back at her and a loud laugh boomed from his pink lips.

Shocked by the sudden wave of sounds Christine backed away from the mirror. Suddenly something obstructed her. She took a deep breath and slowly began to turn around, but it was too late.

His strong arms grabbed her and held her tightly up against his hard body. No matter how hard she struggled it was useless. Christine was trapped.

"Stop fighting me, Christine," the familiar voice chuckled wickedly. "You will never win."

"Let me go!" Christine cried.

All of a sudden Erik's black cape swished over her and encased Christine in pure darkness. She screamed but the thick cape shrouded her cries for help.

Christine felt her body lifting up and then she felt Erik's hard strong shoulders below her. They began to move and Christine continued to struggle against him but she found that Erik was right. It was useless fighting Erik for he was far stronger than her and faster too.

He was almost omnipotent.

The world around Christine began to shake so suddenly that she let out another muffled cry of anguish.

What was going on? Why would he shake her so when he had won?

To her surprise Christine felt something cold upon her forehead and then a cool breeze began to caress her arms and face.

But what could it be? They were inside and nothing could touch her from within Erik's cape.

"Miss Day!" a new voice called loudly. "Miss Day please!"

Christine listened quietly.

"Rose?" another voice breathed hopefully.

Slowly the darkness around Christine began to lift away to reveal two worried faces that hovered above her. Christine stared back up at them in shock but the two women seemed to be very relieved so see her.

"Oh thank goodness," the woman with long curled red hair cried happily. "I thought you were taking a fit!"

Christine sat up to find she was not in the Opera Populaire, nor anywhere she recognized. Looking around the room she saw plush pink sofas and vases of beautiful white lilies. The walls were painted with bright colourful birds on brown branches.

"Where am I?" Christine asked the two women.

This time the one with a dark bun in her hair replied.

"Why, you are at L'Opera Belle," she said softly. "You are Rose day?"

It took Christine a moment to remember the new name she had given herself. She nodded lightly and forced a small smile.

Her hand went to her forehead to discover the damp cool rag.

"Oh now don't touch," the woman with red hair ordered. "You need to stay here and rest until your audition."

"Audition?" Christine whispered.

"Why, yes," the woman with the dark bun replied in a strange tone. "You are here to join the chorus, are you not?"

How did she end up here? How did she manage to secure an audition for the chorus in her sleep? Christine's mind rattled with questions and yet she had to be careful which one she asked.

"How do you know I came here for the auditions?" she asked the two women carefully. "Did someone tell you whilst I was sleeping?"

"Why, yes," the dark haired woman smiled warmly. "Your coachman carried you in and spoke on your behalf."

"He did?" Christine gawked.

How could he? Why would he do that for her?

"Yes," the woman with red hair grinned. "He was a very handsome young man!"

"Oh hush now!" the dark haired woman laughed. "Grace you have had your share of trouble with young pretty boys now."

Grace stuck her tongue out and the two laughed playfully.

"We are also on the chorus," Grace informed Christine with a friendly smile. "My name is Grace and this is Alexandria. The young man asked us if we could take care of you until you woke."

"Really?" Christine frowned. She had no idea what to think. Would a coachman really do all that for her?

"Anyway," Grace smiled. "This is our dressing room and you are welcome here, especially if you make chorus."

Christine couldn't help but smile back. This young woman reminded her of her dearest friend, Meg. They were both happy and welcoming with a smile that could brighten the darkest of souls. Perhaps Christine had found the place where she could start anew.

It all rested on her keeping her new identity and making it into the chorus.

"Thank you so much," Christine beamed. "You two are very kind!"

"Well it is lovely to meet you too," Alexandria smiled sweetly.

"Want to know why we have our very own dressing room?" Grace suddenly cried out with childlike delight.

Christine laughed lightly and met the bright green eyes of the excited young woman. She knew she would find it hard not to think of her dear Meg when Grace was around.

"Of course," she said with intrigue. "It's rather unusual for the chorus to get such beautiful dressing rooms."

"I know," Alexandria agreed. "And it is just between us two."

"Perhaps three soon!" Grace cried happily.

"That would be wonderfully kind of you both," Christine said softly.

"Oh don't thank us yet!" Grace laughed a little madly. She leaned into Christine and cupped her own lips, pressing her cupped hands to Christine's ear. "We get this room because everyone else refuses to come in here but us," she began to whisper.

Christine glanced up at the more serious Alexandria, who nodded gently in agreement with what Grace had just said.

"For you see, Rose," Grace giggled quietly. "It is haunted by a ghost."

Christine froze, her body suddenly plummeted and she heard the girls cry in fear. Suddenly they were rushing around trying to revive her.

"Miss Rose!" Grace cried in distress. "It's alright! It's just what they say!"

Christine's eyes flickered open and embarrassment grasped her. She couldn't believe a little theatre superstition had caused her to faint.

It was probably just some cast members having a jest she told herself silently. After all almost every theatre claimed they had a ghost or a curse on them. Why should this one be any different?

Grace and Alexandria smiled down at Christine, perhaps seeing a little bit of themselves in the young newcomer. They had only really taken her into their care because the young man had given them money for it but now they felt a connection with Miss Rose day. To Grace she would make a great new friend, interesting and beautiful. They could get up to all sorts of trouble together! And to Alexandria Rose somewhat reminded her of the younger sister she had grown up with, as did little Grace.

Perhaps it wasn't just by chance she had fallen into their laps. It just seemed too perfect to be.

"Miss Rose Day!" a male voice boomed from outside the dressing room. "Your audition is in ten minutes!"

Christine looked up to Grace and Alexandria and they helped her onto her feet, supporting her as they led their new friend to the stage. They offered words of encouragement and even stayed behind to comfort and congratulate their new friend after the audition.

And yet out on the new grand stage Christine felt so alone.

She swallowed hard and looked out into the audience, spotting the manager of the opera house, his wife and three other people who sat behind them. There were also some new faces up at the far end of the theatre; Christine assumed this was some of the cast who lived in the opera house as well as work.

"My name is Rose Day," Christine declared bravely. "And for my audition for the chorus I would like to sing for you Schubert's 'Ave Maria'."

"Proceed Miss Day," the manager spoke with a husky German accent.

Christine gave a soft nod and listened as the piano began to play for her. She took deep breaths and came in exactly when she was supposed to. Now Christine could not shrink back and be shy during this performance, everything rested on it. Everything Erik had ever taught her came flooding into her mind and she sang exactly how she had dreamed.

When her voice soared, she soared.

When the music began loud passion expelled from her.

Tears formed in her hers and she sang on, pretending it was only her in the room. No one else mattered but the music.

Christine was even a little bewildered when the music came to an end and even more so when the crowd she had got to their feet and applauded, even the manager.

"Welcome to the chorus, Miss Day," he shouted to her. "I expect to see you tomorrow bright and early with the rest of the chorus for rehearsals."

Christine nodded energetically and quickly thanked her new manager. From there on everything was so fast. Paperwork was signed and people congratulated her. Grace and Alexandria then led Christine back to the dressing room where a box of sweet chocolates and a bottle of fine champagne awaited them.

"Oh!" Grace cried excitedly. "Who could this be from!?"

Alexandria even found herself grinning.

Grace rushed over to the gifts and before she could even say another word the chocolates were open and the champagne was being poured out into three glasses.

"Perhaps it's from the manager," Alexandria smiled softly as she picked up her glass. Christine caught her slight blush. "Or even the patron that was there!"

"Patron…" Christine murmured.

She had enough trouble with patrons in the past…with Raoul.

Oh Roaul…Christine would never forget her lover. She hoped he was not looking for her and hoped he had found her letter explaining everything, telling him not to come looking for her. Perhaps he had moved on already she thought hopefully. She wanted him to be happy, happy without her. But most of all she wanted him to be safe.

Grace climbed up onto a plush pink chair and sprawled her hands and arms out wide, holding an old white blanket above her.

"Or even a gift from the Opera Ghost!" she howled.

Alexandria softly shook her head and laughed but there was no laughter from Christine. She stared at the chocolates before her and suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

There was no way he could be there, she told herself softly. It was all just fun and games. But then why did it not feel like fun and games?

For the night the three celebrated Christine's acceptance into the chorus, or rather Rose's. They laughed and enjoyed the gifts and eventually retired to the sleeping quarters of the opera house. Everything seemed so perfect, so happy. Christine had found her fresh start.

However what Christine did not know was that behind the great mirror of the dressing room the man who had planned the whole thing stood draped in a dark black cape. He pressed his fingers against the glass, watching Christine with intent as she celebrated with her friends.

"A new beginning," Erik whispered to himself as he watched them leave the room after it had grown too late for them. Erik smirked mischievously, his eyes not leaving her until the door was closed behind his Christine, his Rose.

_"Soon my Christine…We will both have a new beginning…"_

Soon she would be his again.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Soprano Hunt**

**Chapter Three**

There was a happy atmosphere to the rehearsal Christine attended on her first day. Everyone seemed friendly in the chorus and everything seemed to run smoothly, a contrast from The Opera Populaire. There was no Opera Ghost to cause trouble, no diva and what Christine loved most of all no one died in suspicious circumstances.

Once the morning rehearsal was over Christine adventured to the dressing room alone. Grace and Alexandria would catch up with her later they had promised but Christine knew that if they were speaking to the patrons of the opera house the conversation could lead to more. Perhaps they would all go out for dinner? That would leave Christine all alone in the dressing room till they returned. Secretly that was exactly what Christine desired. She felt the need to practice her singing herself in the comfort of her own dressing room where no one could hear her, or so she thought anyway.

Christine was completely unaware that in the opera house she was never truly alone. From the beams of the stage he watched over he like a guardian angel and from the shadows of the opera house he stalked her like a ghost. He rarely left her side and yet Erik was beginning to tire from the game of cat and mouse. He had cornered his prey and was sure she could not escape him, not he was just watching it squirm. Should he savour her squirming? Or should he pounce?

Erik followed his little lark back to her dressing room, watching her with hungry eyes. It was far too tempting to appear to her and steal her. How he longed to have her in his arms again, to feel her soft pale skin on his fingers and her gentle pink lips on his. It had been far too long since he had touched her properly. He had not even had the time to claim her lips secretly whilst she slept in the carriage. Erik had been too consumed in fulfilling his plans.

He looked up, trying to compose his lust but the ache welling deep within him pleaded with Erik, begging him for a release.

Christine hummed quietly as she entered her dressing room. She was naive that she had such a keen audience and without a care she closed the door behind her then sat herself down on the plush pink sofa near the full length mirror. She smiled to herself, reaching for the chocolates. Luckily there were some left over from the late night feast and with a bright cheerful grin Christine happily devoured them. She only wished there were more! It had been so long since she had eaten anything so indulgent.

She placed her hands upon her heavy pale pink skirts and took a deep breath. Christine began to go up and down her scales unaccompanied by the music she was so accustomed to having. And once she felt her voice was properly warmed up Christine began to sing.

She sang with passion, remembering everything her Angel of Music had once taught her. Yet it still wasn't enough.

Christine frowned, unsatisfied with her voice. She knew she could sound so much better. But how?

She leant forward, breaking her perfect posture and she buried her head into her hands, closing her eyes over. Perhaps she should just nap she thought to herself silently. Maybe she was just tired after everything that had happened and then the rehearsal?

Christine sighed heavily and laid herself back onto the small sofa, curling up into a tight little ball. She smiled to herself, finding comfort there at last. She knew it would only take her moments to slip away into her dreams.

But Christine did not have that time.

As she rested by the mirror Erik's eyes blazed into her with such an intense stare he was surprised she could not feel it burn into her.

Erik's pale cold lips curved into a wicked grin and he surrendered to the temptation that gripped him so fiercely. He had to show himself to his little Angel, his protégé. This was the next phase of his plans.

A sudden chill descended on the room. Christine's eyes flicked open, just in time to see the candles dim and the fire in the grand fire place slowly die out until the room was cast into darkness.

Her breath caught in her throat and the familiarity of what was happening made her uneasy.

"Hello?" she called in a voice no louder than a whisper.

Christine jumped to her feet and looked around the room, seeing only the dark mist that clouded her view.

She shuddered violently, feeling the coldness of the room bite into her skin, causing her goosebumps. Or was it her fear that caused this reaction?

A strong male voice boomed into the room with such power and vengeance that Christine's knees buckled below her. She fell to her knees and cried out in distress.

"You thought you could outrun a ghost?" the voice sneered hatefully.

A trickle of dim light fell on Christine. She slowly looked over her shoulder to find the mirror opening to expose a familiar dark figure wearing a long cape. He held a lantern in one hand and soon Christine found him holding it over her, illuminating her.

Erik grinned wickedly at her reaction to his appearance. Her eyes were wide and wet with tears and it seemed her skin had lost any colour it had once possessed. She stared up at him, completely transfixed on his full white mask.

Christine did not scream out or flee to Erik's surprise, but she did whimper and cower before him as he stepped over the threshold and into her room.

"Aren't you going to beg for mercy Christine?" he hissed. "Pray to your God even?" Erik sniggered nastily.

Christine turned her face away but Erik snatched her chin roughly with his gloved hands and thrust her head so she looked up to him again. He held her there, staring madly into her gleaming blue eyes.

How he loved to feel her quiver in his grasp. It just showed the true extent of her fear and he savoured it.

Christine attempted to speak but all she could manage was a brief stutter. Embarrassed she looked away and tried to gather herself but she couldn't. She began to feel dizzy and frail as if she were about to faint.

Erik gathered her into his arms, first taking her roughly by the waist and then he had her in a bridal style.

"Won't you struggle and beg Christine as you did when I last confronted you?" he questioned her erratically. "You could even scream! Someone might hear you and rescue you from the cold grip of the Opera Ghost."

Erik laughed softly, shaking his head. He knew very well Christine would not alert anyone of the abduction, for if she did her cover would be blown when the police properly checked her forged papers. Not only that they may recognize the missing soprano.

"Ah Christine, what a mess you have made. You could have stayed where you were, with that foolish boy and married him and had those beautiful children with wealth and such fame." Erik spoke intermittently, completely surrendering himself to the Opera Ghost he was deep within. He turned to the open mirror and continued quickly. "But no Christine, you left him as you left me," he spat hatefully. "Do you feel no compassion?" he questioned her with a sneer.

Erik addressed his prey in his arms. She had closed her eyes and tears had streamed across her pale face.

"Look at me!" Erik screamed at her angrily. "Look at this mortal man before you! This monster you have made!"

Christine did not dare to peek. She couldn't bear to look into those cold icy eyes.

"Fine," Erik sighed loudly. "Don't look, bathe in ignorance Christine. But know this for sure my love, this is truly happening."

Christine felt Erik stalking forward, swiftly approaching the spy room which would soon lead them into Erik's new domain.

What could she do? Her struggle was pointless; Erik was far too strong and much faster than she could ever hope to be. Then if she cried out for help her own illusion would be shattered. What then? Could she go back to Raoul and live in fear caused by the Opera Ghost who wanted her so? He would surly take revenge if she did.

Suddenly Christine's eyes flew open and she threw her body to the side in a desperate attempt to break free.

Erik laughed loudly, amused that she actually believed she had a chance. He would soon prove to her she was completely at his mercy.

His strong arms held her tightly, capturing her again quickly before she could even make her next move.

"Try it once more," he hissed.

Erik sniggered as Christine tried the same move again. This time he expected it and she could not move against him.

Her wet frustrated eyes glared up at him and she growled angrily. Her hands lashed out for his face and in response Erik dropped her.

Christine cried out and she did not reach Erik's mask. She fell quickly, thumping on the pink carpet of the dressing room. She hissed in pain and before she could recover from the shock of her fall Erik had grabbed her by her slim ankles.

"No!" she screamed out.

But Erik was not listening.

The Opera Ghost held her tightly and mercilessly dragged her by her fragile ankles over the threshold of the mirror and closer into the darkness of the spy room. Christine sobbed hysterically and clawed at the floor she slid against, but she did not stop moving.

She screamed aloud at the door which led to the costume ally outside her dressing room. Light trickled from under the door and Christine could swear she heard soft whispers. Yet no one entered.

The darkness consumed them both and at once Erik threw down her ankles and grabbed her off the floor, ruthlessly tugging her up into his arms without a care for her comfort or dignity. After all she had taken away his on their last clash.

"Poor helpless Christine, come and join your Angel in Hell!" Erik laughed manically as he steered her backwards and down the first cold stone stair.

Christine cried out as she was pulled backwards into the dark gateway and she felt her heart sink when the mirror door slowly began to close. She was trapped.

Would she forever be encased in a tomb with Erik?

Erik knocked Christine over with one swift chop to the back of her knees with his arm. Her knees easily gave way and Erik used his opportunity to sweep his prize into his arms once more.

With confidence in each step Erik descended the stairs with Christine in his arms. She struggled and sobbed like Erik had predicted but eventually she calmed and fell silent. Erik began to wonder what she was thinking, or rather plotting.

"It is not as grand as my home before," he said suddenly to draw her out of her mind. "But I need few luxuries to survive. Whatever else you may need I shall supply."

"You do realise I am not staying here with you, Erik?" Christine grumbled.

Erik stopped dead, his eyes blazing into hers.

"I will never let you leave me again," he snarled. "I would rather kill you Christine than let another man have you."

Christine fell silent. Now she was truly afraid. For this was not the man she had left in the catacombs that night, not at all. This was the bloodthirsty Opera Ghost who was fuelled by killing and the pain of others. This man was not Erik.

Erik continued down the stairs until they reached a passageway that led off into three separate hallways. Christine squinted her eyes but could not see an end to any of them. Luckily Erik was accustomed to the dark; he did not even need the lantern which he had left by the mirror. He knew exactly where he was going and without hesitation he took the left passage way and made his way along the twists and turns of the catacombs.

Christine tried to remember each move Erik made but she could barely see, also Erik began to talk to distract her.

"No one can hear us down here," he told her calmly. "You could scream until your throat was red and raw but still no one would come for you, my Christine."

Christine looked away and sighed heavily. Of course she believed Erik. She had seen how far down they had travelled and then how many turns and passageways they had taken. She was completely lost in Erik's underground maze.

"They'll wonder where I am," Christine murmured.

Erik cast her a smirk but Christine could not make out his expression. All she could see was his outline and the white of his full mask.

"I'll take care of that my love. Then we can be together here, for eternity," Erik promised her with such a conviction Christine's fear was aroused again.

"You can't keep me here Erik," she protested in a whimper.

Erik simply laughed.

"But I can my Christine, my Angel," he assured her madly. "This is your destiny; to live out your days with your Angel of Music!"

Christine shook her head lightly and looked away from him, deciding it was best to just let him rampage. Perhaps soon the real Erik would show himself and apologise for his mad behaviour? However as they drew up to the entrance to Erik's new home Christine's hope slowly began to die away.

Erik placed Christine down on the cold hard floor and as he towered above her she shrank into a little ball.

Erik grinned widely, cherishing the moment where she had truly submitted to him. But to make sure he gave her one more warning.

"Don't bother trying to run, you'll only get lost. Besides I am much faster than you could ever be Christine. I would easily track you down and drag you back home without much effort," he told her firmly. "You should conserve your energy for when you beg for mercy later."

Christine stiffened. Suddenly the abduction had taken an even darker approach.

Erik was going to punish her.

Erik's long thin fingers slipped into his waistcoat pocket to retrieve the key for the large metal doors. He quickly unlocked them and slowly slid the heavy doors open to reveal a lit room. He turned to his Christine, who cowered before him, the light of Erik's domain lightly revealing her to him.

Christine stared up at Erik, finally seeing her captor fully illuminated. He looked pristine as ever, even after such a struggle.

Erik beamed and extended a cold pale hand to his guest.

Christine reluctantly accepted and allowed him to pull her up from the dirty hard floor and into the domain. He pulled her in close, wrapping his long thin arms around her waist. Christine was always so surprised by his strength.

She looked up at him, her eyes drenched in her tears.

"Welcome home, my love," Erik chuckled sinisterly. "Now, you will never leave me."

The heavy metal doors slammed shut, sealing Christine's fate.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Soprano Hunt **

**Chapter Four**

Christine's pale hands grasped the cool doorknob and she twisted and pulled desperately. But Erik had locked it. She looked around the small room, frantically searching for an escape or even a hiding place. However her search was fruitless.

"I'll come and get you when it is time," Erik had hissed when he threw her into her prison cell.

Christine had tried to plead with him and run out after Erik but he did not care. He slammed the door on her. The Opera Ghost was vengeful and nothing could stop his lust for blood. Christine was to bear the brunt of Erik's temper now and as his prisoner she had nowhere to run.

The terrified young woman looked around the room again, this time she saw the detail of the room in the candle light. The dressing table beside the wardrobe was covered with everything a diva could ever need and more. There were also programmes from every performance at the Opera House Christine had ever participated in.

It was clear Erik had put a lot of thought into creating the new room for Christine and even more so it was quite obvious he planned to keep her there.

She sat on the bed and clung onto the dark yellow blankets as she took deep heavy breaths. Christine couldn't believe Erik had set everything up for her just to lure her into his trap. Now what would happen to her? What was this punishment to be? Did Erik still lust for her?

How Christine longed for him to return and end her torment. Not knowing what Erik had planned ahead for her made her mind race, introducing so many awful thoughts into her head. But Erik did not return soon as Christine wished. Erik was biding his time, preparing her punishment only rooms away.

Later Christine would wish she was still locked away in the bedroom alone.

Silently Erik entered Christine's room wearing a new black mask. His eyes scanned the room for his prisoner and quickly sought her out. She lay curled up on the bed and it seemed she had fallen asleep there.

Erik glared at her from the door, finding it hard not to drink in how angelic his Christine was, especially when she slept.

With soundless steps Erik approached his sleeping captive and he stood by her side, still watching attentively as her chest rose and fell before him. Erik reached out, so desperate to run his cold hand through her long curls and feel how silk like they were in his fingers. But he refrained from touching her like that and had to push all those sort of thoughts from his mind, or else he would never be able to do what he was about to do.

Without a word Erik gently lifted Christine's sleeping body into his arms and carried her from her bedroom. She did not stir.

Erik watched her carefully with his icy eyes. She was so peaceful that he promised himself he would let her sleep before he punished her. He had taken almost everything else away from her anyway so the least he could do was allow her to dream.

Erik carried Christine's limp body into the living quarters of his makeshift house and he carefully lay her down onto the plush green sofa. He looked down on her, finally allowing himself to touch her face. He gently trailed his fingers down her cheek bone to her jaw then to her neck. He relished how soft her skin was and wished he could just lean down and kiss every inch of her.

Only then did Christine begin to wake. Then Erik stepped back into the shadows of the room and watched her with a grave face. He had thought about what he was about to do for some time now. It seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Christine's eyes flickered open and she glanced around her surroundings. Panic and confusion raged through her and forced her to jolt up. She didn't recognize the room but knew she was still deep within the Phantom's lair.

"Erik!" she cried out. "What is going on?"

There was no reply and Christine was completely unaware that she was being watched.

Christine fell silent and examined the room around her. There were full bookshelves all over one stone wall, a grand painting of a young woman with long curled hair that reminded Christine of herself hung on another wall and there was a single table before her where only two things sat. A newspaper and a music box Erik once bought for her.

Gingerly Christine reached out and took the newspaper from the table. She slowly unfolded it and gazed upon the black ink on the first page. A story caught her eye instantly. This story was about a death. It was about Raoul's death.

Christine's watery eyes frantically read over the entire story. Her heart seemed to stop, her breathing became shallow. Everything around her seemed to dull away. Even after she was finished reading her wet eyes did not leave the newspaper until it dropped out of her trembling hands.

Raoul was dead. He had been murdered.

Erik emerged from the shadows. His steps were so seamless and silent it almost seemed like he was gliding. He made his way to Christine's side and stood before her, towering above her. He sneered down at her, trying hard not to laugh at her poor attempt to avoid his blazing eyes.

"Whilst you slept peacefully in your carriage I stopped at an inn and paid a man to watch over you, to keep you there if required," Erik began in a low voice. He watched her reaction, following those little crystal tears as the moved down her soft pale skin. "Then I went back into the mansion and while the boy slept I slit him open from his gullet to his pelvis."

Christine threw herself down and let out a loud cry of horror. She began to sob hysterically but Erik just watched her cry and without sympathy he reached for the little music box he had once bought his Christine.

He placed it onto the table before her and called her name softly.

Christine's cries were relentless.

Erik snatched her up by her arms and forced Christine to sit up. He then grabbed her face roughly and forced her to look up at him. She tried to shy away, both disturbed and scared by the mad flash in Erik's icy eyes. But Erik was too strong to fight against.

"I brought you a little present, my love," he chuckled darkly. "It was yours to begin with but I wanted to reunite you with it. You may keep it down here if you wish."

Erik casually opened the music box and Christine watched in terror as Erik revealed to her the blood soaked velvet insides of the box, along with the large raw heart of her lover.

"Raoul!" Christine wept.

Erik allowed her to fall again.

"You have his heart Christine. You foolish child! Isn't this what you wanted from him?" Erik yelled. His loud commanding voice echoed throughout the house. "Now you have it! I give it to you as your wedding present!"

He snatched up the cold bloody heart into his pale hands and squeezed it, forcing it into Christine's face before she covered herself up again.

"Don't you want your gift?" Erik laughed hysterically.

Christine didn't look up but she shook her head vigorously.

"Come!" Erik cried. He placed the heart down on the table and grabbed her arms with his blood stains hands. "Hold his heart Christine!" he ordered. "Play with it in his hands like you played with mine!" Erik spat hatefully.

"Erik no!" Christine sobbed. She looked up at him, her eyes red with tears. But Erik had forgotten mercy.

"Hold it," he hissed.

She shook her head quickly and looked away from him. "What is it you want from me Erik? What else could you take from me now?" she demanded, her voice almost breaking several times. "You have my freedom and now you have destroyed my heart? What more is there to take Erik?"

Christine lay her head back down on the sofa once more and she began to sob. She couldn't stop herself. Each cry strained her throat and made it hard to breathe. She was sure if she didn't stop soon she would join Raoul in his grave…perhaps that was what she secretly wanted.

Erik smiled strangely and reached out to gently run his hand through Christine's long locks. "Ah Christine," he sighed happily. "I want to possess you completely. Make you mine in every way. Even if I have to make you submit to me for you to love me."

"You monster," Christine choked out.

She could feel her heart ache within her chest. It felt like it could stop any moment and she prayed it did.

Suddenly Erik scooped her up into his arms and he swiftly began to move from the room. Christine automatically began to kick and struggle but Erik only sneered at her futile attempts to escape him.

"Now that my love rival is gone I can take what is mine without objection. Would you object Christine? Would you dare deny me now you know what I am truly capable of? Will you finally obey me as a wife should?" Erik questioned her furiously.

"I am not your wife!" Christine screamed. "I hate you!"

Erik dropped her suddenly, letting her hit across the cold stone ground. Christine cried out in pain but did not attempt to get up again. She just lay there and wept for her dead lover.

Erik crouched down over her, shrouding her with his long cape, engulfing her in his darkness. "We made vows to each other!" he hissed into his beloved's ear. She tried to hit him away but he caught her wrist and squeezed hard. "We exchanged rings and wore the proper attire!"

Christine cried out in pain and Erik threw her hand back to her side.

"I have your wedding dress in your wardrobe my bride," he told her with a wide manic grin. "Now I want you to get up and put it on and then lie on your bed for me."

Christine whimpered in distress but Erik ignored her.

"Either you put it on in private or I will tear your clothes off and put it on for you!" he threatened her madly.

Christine stumbled to her feet and clumsily ran into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Erik stared after her, listening from outside as his wife cried and cursed him from inside her room. Yes, Erik knew what he was doing was brutal and cruel but at the same time he savoured the power he had once more and couldn't help but ache below for what was to come.

He would have his wedding night after all. Whether it was to be willingly consummated or not.


End file.
